Broken Brights
by Namairu
Summary: Stiles' mother died a year before the whole werewolf escapade happened. With all being so absurd and unrealistic, violent and just simply creepy, Stiles starts silently fall down. Is anyone there to catch him?
1. Prologue

Okay, so this is my first attempt of writing a Teen Wolf fanfic, and of course it had to be an angsty one about depressed stiles.  
But for now, I'm posting this in here my Tumblr blog for a day, and I hope some of you will give me some feedback about what I should correct and what things I should include into my writing. And I don't speak english so sorry, there might be some (pretty) bad mistakes but .

So this is like a possible prologue if I continue this. I don't know yet.

_Title_: Broken Brights  
_Rated_: M  
_Length_: 2700+ words  
_Categories_: Romance, Self-harm, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and stuff.  
_Pairing_: Derek/Stiles  
_Warnings_: Probably if I continue, there might be some violent parts.  
_Summary_: Stiles' mother died a year before the whole werewolf escapade happened. With all being so absurd and unrealistic, violent and just simply creepy, Stiles starts silently fall down. Is anyone there to catch him?

* * *

Stiles was fifteen years old when his mother died. Doctors couldn't tell what made her death so sudden or what the exact reason was that she died, but they told him and his dad that it was probably some quite new hereditary disease. That was why Stiles had a serious danger to get sick, and they should contact them immediately if something unusual started to happen. He would have to go for a health examination at least once in six months because doctors didn't want to take a risk of Stiles getting sick too. His dad agreed with doctors and soon father and son started new, healthier lifestyles, which mostly considered healthier food because when you're a police or a teenager you don't give a fuck about sleeping enough or stuff like that. First it had only been Sheriff's idea to eat healthily, but after a year, it was mostly Stiles lecturing about too greasy foods or about sodas with too much sugar. Even thought Stiles himself ate greasy food and sugary snacks, when his father wasn't seeing. Sugary food had been almost completely banned from Stiles because of his ADHD when he was younger, but as said, when you're a teenager, you don't give a fuck about stuff like that. But the thing is, even thought his and his dad's life changed a lot, somehow things just went wrong. The day of Stiles' mother's death was catalyst of everything. It was the day, when everything started to go into hell.

Not a half a year after funeral Stiles was running in the woods with Scott, trying to find a half of the body that police officers were also trying to detect. That was the night when Scott got bitten and lost his inhalator. Then he found out about werewolves. It was super absurd and creepy and just insane discovery, but as it turned out, it was true. Werewolves. Stiles had had to sleep a few days in row before he actually and completely accepted the fact that the world he was living wasn't like the one he thought it was. Discovering werewolves was like finally accepting that his mother was dead. He wasn't a child anymore, world wasn't rainbows an butterflies. In real world, people died and they were mauled into tiny pieces. There were sanguinary beasts, humans just as vicious as werewolves. He had seen a tiny piece of it himself when he tried to convince Scott that he indeed was a werewolf and therefore should stay away from Allison. Scott had almost attacked him. Scott had pressed him against wall and growled with his flashing eyes. It was after that incident that Stiles cut himself first time. A reason for that? Well, his mother was dead, his dad was drowning himself to work and his best friend had became bloodthirsty werewolf that almost ripped his face off. Speak about trouble. He had just needed some proof that all that he was experiencing was true and not some fucking twisted and scary nightmare. But soon it just became an obsession, pain felt good and watching it drip down from the cut was like having a good dream. Or more like sending a successful prayer up to the any heaven where his mother might be. Stiles knew that people said it wasn't healthy, but if you did it just occasionally and let the cuts heal, it wouldn't be a bad thing right? It couldn't be a bad thing because it felt good.

* * *

Stiles didn't quite remember all that had happened. Sure, Derek had killed an alpha and he had been as alpha's hostage, he knew that much. But he thinks that somewhere he must have hit his head because everything seems like haze now. No exact memories of words, just a few glimmers of moments. Alpha's teeth close his wrist, gunshots, Allison's dad, Alpha on fire and Derek's eyes shifting from blue to red. And it all came to the fact, that he, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's son had helped to kill a man. Be it that it was a psychotic werewolf killer, but still a man and dead. That's like, against all the laws. And here he was, sitting on a porch of burnt Hale house next to his best friend who was murmuring softly with Allison. How come Scott didn't seem bothered about the fact that he had just seen a man dying in front of his eyes. Scott was only annoyed that it had been Derek who killed him. But to be honest, Stiles didn't even believe that Scott killing alpha would've changed anything. Derek killed Peter, and as they could see, now he had those creepy and nightmare-ish blood-red eyes of an Alpha. Derek had became an Alpha. What if Scott had killed Derek? What if Scott would've became a new alpha? Because everybody knew that it would've been disaster. Scott barely controlled himself now, so how did he think he could've controlled himself with much bigger power of an alpha. No- wait. Scott didn't think. That was the problem, because it was Stiles who always had to do all the thinking for Scott. You would think that ADHD teen wouldn't smarter than just regular lacrosse-playing asthmatic werewolf but truth is very different. Stiles rose up and checked his pockets. Great, just wonderful. He had lost his phone and car-keys. Fan-fucking-tastic. It wasn't like Scott had a car, and Stiles did not feel comfortable to ask a ride from Argents. And Derek giving him a ride home would be just unlikely and awkward. But before he even could start walking out of the porch, Derek was in front of him, car-keys tucked into his fist, eyes examining Stiles' shirt. Wait- what? Stiles looked at his white t-shirt, which was complete bloody mess at his right rib. He hadn't taken any impacts, but his side throbbed with sharp pain. What Derek was watching, was his half healed mess of cuts in his ribs, which had been torn open when Stiles had been running around like a headless chicken.

"When did they touch you?" Derek's voice was dark and had a very odd tone in it. Stiles arched his brow. "What? I mean, no, they didn't. I'm not a werewolf, remember? It's not even my blood" Stiles lied. Yeah, Derek could probably recognize that but you can always try. "It's not like it hurts anyway" Stiles assured and shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, but there was a lie again. It hurt like a bitch and shrugging made it even worse.

".. right" This was almost like that time when Derek gad creeped into his room before Danny came over. When Stiles had came home from school, he was hurrying to get some information from his computer on how to make the pain stop without medication but oh- werewolf in his room. That time Derek hadn't asked anything, just looked at him with that odd stare which made Stiles feel very uneasy.

"Found your keys." Derek grumbled and shove the keys into Stiles' hand. Then he just walked past him and inside the house, despite Stiles' few words, "How did you know these are mine?". Derek had just shrugged and slammed the door close. You didn't have to be a werewolf to understand that that meant you should leave. So Stiles drove back to home.

After Stiles had sneaked back into his room through his window, he lifted the hem of his t-shirt carefully. His ribs felt like they were burning, most fresh cuts all open and leaking little droplets of blood. Some even had a little of pus in them, which is, to be honest, fucking gross and painful. It wasn't like Stiles wanted to die from infection. After hassling a while with band-aids and disinfection liquid Stiles had cleaned his wounds and the pain had subsided a little. But Stiles felt still ugly. After all, he had helped to kill a man, another human. Basically he had just killed someone. What was he supposed to feel like? Because he didn't exactly know if he was sad, terrified or kind of happy and satisfied. Maybe both. And still he felt this uncomfortable ache under his skin, almost like there was something trying to eat its way out of him. Stiles briefly wondered if this was how Scott felt when his wolf started to come out. He didn't want to find out if he did. Alpha may have offered a bite to him, and he may have lied about not wanting it at all, but he didn't really want to be werewolf. Being werewolf seemed to bring so much other shit with it that it'd be too much for Stiles to handle. It was true, he would probably be awesome werewolf, but with his ADHD and his dad and just everything.. he couldn't take a risk like that.

It didn't take long of Stiles to tiptoe into upstairs' toilet-bathroom and dig up his little box of razor blades. He kicked his muddy clothes off and tossed them to laundry basket. Soon he had a razor blade in his arms while sitting on the cold tile floor. He was examining at his left leg's thigh. He wasn't going to cut his ribs tonight, they hurt enough already. Carefully Stiles pressed sharp edge of razor blade at his inner thigh and slided. Perfectly straight and smooth edged gash had formed itself in pale flesh. The gash almost bubbled with blood leaking from it. Shockwaves of endorphins flashed through his body, giving him stupefied jolts of pleasure. Stiles sighed stutteringly and closed his eyes, focusing only at the feeling of blood rushing out of his body. As the blood leaked out, it felt like the thing that had been clawing under his skin was coming out too. It was like he was cleaning up from all the terrible memories and feelings. It felt so good.

* * *

"Why do you smell so weird?" Scott asked almost immediately when he joined Stiles at school's parking lot. Two of them started walking towards the school, and Scott was obviously sniffing the air around Stiles.

"It's almost like you have been working in iron shop. But when? You couldn't have been there yesterday, shops are closed on Sundays" Scott wore a confused expression and stared Stiles with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I seriously have no idea what you're talking about. Haven't you had your coffee yet?" Stiles managed to laugh like he usually did as he readjusted his school bag. "No Stiles you know I don't drink coffee. We promised each other that either of us won't drink coffee because it makes your thing go crazy, remember?" Scott smiled a little bit, just like a young little boy. Now Stiles really laughed a little bit. "Scott, that was when we were ten. I'm not saying you can't drink coffee now, because I could too. I have adderall now, u know?" Stiles arched his eyebrows at Scott and started shuffling with the lock of his locker.

"Yeah, except that your dad doesn't still let you drink coffee" Scott added and started to dig his own books from locker.

"Well that just doesn't change anything" Stiles commented. He was kind of happy that he had managed to make Scott trail away from the actual subject. To be honest, coffee actually was a nice thing to talk about, sometimes all the werewolf stuff just made Stiles' head hurt. He was going to keep on rambling about coffee and non-caffeine coffees, but seeing how Jackson snorted by himself at his own locker door across the hall made Stiles feel weird and odd all over again. Jackson wasn't person to make weird voices by himself. That was totally uncool. Wait- why was Jackson staring at him? And why in hell his eyes were amber?

"Scott!" Stiles all but squeaked and gripped on his best friends shoulder. For a while Scott seemed just like a young puppy whose ears perked up became he became aware of something. Stiles nodded at Jacksons direction a few times, and when Scott finally saw who Stiles was nodding at, he inhaled deeply, like he was seriously offended.

"What the hell? Stiles Jackson is a-!" Scott started with a loud voice but he was cut off by Stiles shushing him.

"Yeah I know, I know. Oh fuck. OH fuck. We have a lacrosse practise today!" Stiles mumbled quietly. "Derek must have turned him yesterday because it has been only two days since Peter-escapade. Scott we have to take him out of here, we have a fucking lacrosse today, Jackson can't play!" Stiles was whisper-screaming at his friend, walking fast towards their homeroom class.

"But I can play lacrosse, why wouldn't he be ale to do that?" Dumb. Scott was so dumb. Stiles sighed frustratingly.

"And we both saw how well that went. You almost yanked his arm off if I remember right" Stiles strode into the class, leaving gaping Scott outside the door.

At lunch Stiles slipped to sit opposite Jackson with Scott. Not Danny or anyone else had yet came to eat with Jackson so they could speak with him for now. Stiles had a great speech ready in his head, but of course, Scott had to open his awkward mouth.

"Dude what the fuck! When did you meet Derek, why did you meet him? Don't you know that the guy is a complete douchebag?" Scott sounded angry, Stiles thought he seemed more like a betrayed puppy.

"What I do is none of you business McCall. I don't owe you anything" Jackson shook his head with a smug smirk and bit his apple. Scott opened his mouth again.

"But dude, it's Derek, he-" But once again, he was cut off by Stiles. "Scott- shut up please. Jackson what did Derek exactly tell you before he .. you know" Stiles made a vague move with his hand at Jacksons direction, who btw, looked quite annoyed.

"Nothing. What do you mean by that? It's not like there's much to now. I'm more powerful, I can play lacrosse well again. I don't see any problem here"

"Yeah, well, there is a problem, you know. You can't play tonight on practise. Skip it" Stiles shrugged nonchalantly and gave Jackson a serious look. "I mean, sure, you can go and play, but do you think it is better to rip your teammates apart than stay away from lacrosse for a while and learn to control yourself _until _you can play again?" Stiles narrowed his eyes, hoped that it looked convincing.

"Yeah, go fuck yourself Stilinski. I'm not going to rip anyone apart. Scott hasn't and to be honest I'm a lot better than him. In everything" Jackson looked very confident while eyeing Scott, who had a complicated expression, almost like he didn't understand everything.

"Ehrm, excuse me. Scott would've ripped your arm off before that game if I hadn't stopped him _and_, he almost ripped me apart in locker room once. Seriously Jackson, I've seen it and I just know that you have to wait. You have to learn how to control yourself" Stiles most definitely wasn't begging. He was just concerned about his own dear life in field. Sure, that's it.

"Fuck off. Stilinski, you're not even a werewolf" Jackson laughed and picked up his school bad, ready to leave.  
"No, Jackson seriously! This is not a game! Derek is going to come and rip _you_ apart if you go to the practise." Now Stiles was begging. He wasn't ready to hear about Derek yet. He hadn't even slept well because those red eyes of his haunted him in his dreams.

"I don't need him. I don't give a fuck about one Derek Hale" Jackson grumbled and showed Stiles to his feet with aggression, before stopping abruptly.

"Dude, why do you smell like blood? Is your body like rotting or something?"


	2. Chapter 1 Avoiding the subject

Thank you for your reviews. I will write this in uncertain pace, and I will at least try to finish this for you :)  
This is the first real fanfiction I've ever published and this is the first I've written in english so don't get mad at me if you spot big big mistakes, alright?

And please, review. Let me know if you read this.

* * *

Right after school and the lacrosse practice, when Stiles came home, he ripped his clothes off and hurried in bathtub. He was lucky that Jackson hadn't pushed him to explain the reason of his horrible smell of blood any further. Jackson had only sighed frustratingly and walked off. And then Stiles had been busy at not answering Scott's questions. And Jackson didn't show up in practice, which was a big surprise to Scott and Stiles, not that they were disappointed because no-one should let Jackson near any anger stuff before he could control himself. As seen in Scott's case. Maybe he had gone to meet Derek, at least he hadn't told anyone the reason why he was off from practice. Not even Danny.

Stiles' leg hurt. His gash wasn't healing properly because he had cut too deep. If he went to hospital, they would probably put stitches in it. The gash had pus in it and it was a bit green-ish. It looked like it would rot his whole leg off if it wouldn't heal. Stiles turned water on to fill the bathtub he was sitting in, then he took his sharp tweezers and starter to pick pus off of his gash. It wasn't like he hadn't done this before. There was no way he would go to hospital, Scott's mom worked there and it would just lead in small problems. Probably. Maybe he could talk Ms McCall to not tell Scott about his visit but that would be just too suspicious, and if he went there, they would let his dad know, of course, because he had some insurance stuff. Stiles put the tweezers away and started to wash away a smell of blood and rotten skin.

Soon Stiles walked back in his room with a towel wrapped around his hips and disinfection liquid in his hands. His dad wasn't home so he was free to walk around shirtless. Stiles had read somewhere that cuts and other kind of wounds healed more quickly when they 'breathed'. Stiles kind of liked to think all of his cuts as projects. He watched them every day to see how much they had healed and it was wonderful to think, that all this happened in his own body. Stiles put disinfection bottle on his table and turned to find some underwear and his old, baggy police t-shirt to put on. He seriously needed some sleep. When he turned away from his closet to pick the disinfection bottle and bandage, well, they weren't there. Stiles frowned a little. He was sure that he had put the bottle at the table. He turned to look at his bed, just to see dark form standing next to it.

"OH THE HELL! What the fuck! Derek?" Stiles screamed startled. He walked to grab a bottle that Derek was holding. Except that Derek didn't let him take it.

"Oh come on, give it to me" Stiles insisted and tried to get the bottle out of his hand.

"Where did you get those?" Derek asked instead and nodded towards Stiles. He made very clear what he meant, but Stiles decided to act stupid.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Give it to me, now" Stiles commanded in a tone that owner often uses for a dog. Derek wasn't a dog, not completely. Maybe that's why he didn't obey him. Or maybe no-one just had taught him to behave. Instead of giving the bottle back, Derek grabbed Stiles' arm and shoved him into his bed. Stiles yelped a little and scrambled to sit.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You can't just creep in people's room and steal their stuff! If you need that you could have just asked" Stiles grumbled and pressed a hand in his right side. He had landed softly and it didn't hurt.  
Derek pressed his callused and still amazingly soft hands on Stiles' legs and pulled them apart. This made Stiles panic a little. What was Derek doing? The fact, that he made Stiles so exposed to him like this, even though he had underwear on, made Stiles embarrassed. Like he had some right to just show Stiles' legs apart and start staring at his thighs.

".. what are you doing. There's nothing in there. Well, no that's not what I meant, I mean that there is nothing that you will find very interesting so just stop" Stiles talked a little awkwardly and tried to pry Derek's hands off him. But no, Derek's fingers found their way on deep cut in Stiles' left thigh. Stiles gasped and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. Derek's touch tickled and hurt at the same time.

"What is this?" Yeah, like Derek didn't know what that was. It was Stiles' crotch and thighs and.. Thinking about Derek watching at his crotch was no good thing. No straight dude thought about things like that!

"A gash. Can't you see? Not that I want you to watch it.. " Stiles mumbled and tried to show Derek's hand off of him again.

"But where did you get it? It's infected" Derek stated and settled on his knees at the floor. This position made some not so appropriate images flash before his eyes. Ew, this was Derek, a werewolf murderer, why did Stiles even notice things like positions or stuff?

"It smells like it's rotting".

"It's nothing. It will heal. It's not like if you lick it, it would heal like your little wolf magic stuff does to your injuries" Stiles tried to chuckle a little, but it only sounded a strained. Derek pressed his chin on Stiles' thigh and lowered his head a little. Oh my god, he wasn't going to. No. No, he was. Fuck that is just.. Stiles panicked internally and opened his mouth to squeak his protests, but no voice came before Derek had pressed his hot and very wet tongue against Stiles' gash. It wasn't like he had asked him to do that!  
Derek's stubble scratched the tender skin of Stiles' inner thigh while a tongue lapped over his wound over and over again. Derek licked his wound like a dog, spreading saliva all over it and making Stiles' stomach clench weirdly. For once Stiles was quiet and watched as Derek kept on licking the wound carefully, making it glisten with saliva. Stiles felt odd. It didn't exactly hurt but it wasn't completely comfortable feeling either, because his wound felt so warm and it kind of pounded. He was sure that the gash was clean enough already, well, as clean as it can be when it is covered in someone's saliva. But Derek just nuzzled closer to his thigh and kept licking the wound languidly.

"Are you ready?" Stiles questioned quietly, watching Derek whose eyes were half-closed now.

"Not yet" Derek whispered breathily and lowered his head a little, now only running a tip of his tongue on the gash. Then he just sat there, eyes closed and nose buried in Stiles' thigh, breathing deeply. Then the moment was gone too fast and Derek rose up to his feet, wiping the corners of his mouth.

"Don't put a band on that. Just let it be" he ordered and nodded towards Stiles' thigh.

"Yeah, yea- sure" Stiles stuttered a little confused. "Why did you do that actually?" Stiles lifted his chin and looked at Derek's eyes. They were hazy and gleamed grey, green, hazel and blue. His eyes were ones that people called 'glatz'.

"You're part of my pack. Since I'm your alpha it is my job to take care of you. All of you" Derek nodded, more like to himself than anyone else, as if he was assuring his own thoughts.

"Ooh-kay. Understood. But I didn't know that humans can be a part of the pack too? Because isn't that kind of weird, doesn't that mean that they could make up packs which consist only about humans and .." Stiles trailed off as he saw Derek climb back to the window.

"Hey wait! I forgot to thank you" Stiles hurried up from the bed and next to the window. Currently Derek was sitting at a windowsill, halfway out.

"We'll meet tomorrow afternoon at my place. The whole pack. That means you have to take Scott and Jackson with you Stiles" It was almost like explaining things to young child, bur Stiles wasn't going to complain right now.

"Okay, well I can promise that Scott will come but I don't know about Jackson he was kinda angry today, and what is with giving him the bite after all, isn't that like very, very.."

"Jackson will come, just remember to bring Scott" Derek cut Stiles off and disappeared from the windowsill, just like that, like he always did, leaving confused and only a little bit flustered Stiles alone in his room.

When Stiles woke up next morning, he felt surprisingly good. For once, he wasn't tired and it seemed like the day would be quite nice. Of course, he would have to go to school and try to persuade Jackson and Scott to go over Derek's because that was what the new alpha wanted. Derek. Yes, that person with glatz eyes and angry eyebrows and stubble and hot, wet tongue.. Oh god. Derek had been licking Stiles' wound the day before. He had almost forgotten that and now that image of a memory flashed before his eyes, Stiles felt so _ashamed_. Not only did Derek know about his tiny little cuts, he had been trying to heal one of them. He had licked Stiles' cut when he had been babbling something incoherent about wolf's saliva. Now Stiles was quickly up sitting and lifting his covers to look at his thigh. He was curious, intrigued about how his wound looked now, because it actually was a fact, that wolf's and dogs saliva had something that made wounds heal properly. But did it work for him? Stiles crooked his left leg and looked at his inner thigh.

"Awesome.." Stiles whispered to himself and pressed his fingers at a pale flesh of his inner thigh. There where an open gash was yesterday, was a little bit red and neat scar. It was like magic. Miracle. Stiles pressed his skin around and top of the scar carefully, but he felt no pain. Nothing.  
Stiles jumped up from his bed and went to dig up some clean clothes to wear. He was in such a good mood.

"Hey Scott, what do you think about this: I was researching and I found out that real wolves have this thing in their saliva that not only heals their wounds much more faster but it also disinfects them" Stiles reported to his friend excitedly. Okay, he told half-a lie because he most certainly did not get to know this by researching. Even though, he had researched it earlier before the.. thing happened. Unfortunately Scott didn't seem so curious about Stiles' big inventions.

"Okay, so?"  
"Okay? Well, I was just thinking about your _furry little problem_ and it seems like it might be working in some way" Stiles turned to look Scott's eyes with his 'you know what that means' expression. It didn't work at Scott. Nothing worked on him these days.

"So what? I don't follow" Scott wrinkled his eyebrows. Stiles felt a little bit exasperated. Scott had been whining all morning about how Allison's father forbid the couple of seeing each other again and how he still was werewolf. His complaining was seriously starting to annoy Stiles. He sighed exasperatedly and made his thoughts clear.

"So it means that your saliva is like magic potion which heals wounds almost immediately" Now Scott's eyes brightened a little.

"How did ya find out?" Stiles' shoulders seriously slumped a little bit.

"Yeah, forget it buddy" He murmured and started walking towards the locker rooms. They had only lacrosse practice left. Then he, with Scott and Jackson, would go to Derek's place. He didn't know exactly why they were going there but as the alpha commanded.

"Scott, when practice is over we are going to Derek's" Stiles informed without looking at his friend. Instead he held his head high and tried to find Jackson with his eyes. When he finally saw him, he jumped and yelled his name. That made the new werewolf cringe a little bit, Stiles forgot sometimes just how good wolves their hearing was.

"Jackson. Derek asked you to come with us to his place today" Stiles said to his fellow teammate almost brightly. Jackson just snorted.

"Yeah, right. Not coming" He stated smugly. Stiles knew this would happen.

"Nnope- you are coming. To be honest he didn't even ask. He commanded us to come so" Stiles shrugged a bit and put on his practice shirt. Jackson hadn't said anything after that, just left to the field.

"But – when did you talk with Derek? Or do you have his phone number? Does he even have a phone?" Scott asked while tying his shoelaces.

"Oh, he just creeped into my room – again – and left a message. Sounded angry".

When they finally arrived at the ruins of the Hale house (Jakson had wanted to drive alone with his own dear Porsche), Stiles was kind of nervous. Jackson had almost shifted _four_ times on the field today. Everyone had looked at him and Scott weirdly when they finally put Jackson on the bench and wouldn't let him play. He had no idea what was the meaning of this meeting, but it probably had something to do with Jackson, he was sure of it. He had creeps from this place. All he could think about was dead Kate Argent and burning Peter Hale. He felt sick. He slammed the door of his jeep closed and started to walk to the house beside Scott. When they walked first steps to the porch Derek appeared in front of all three of them.

"You're all here. Good" Derek said the same motionless way he always did. At first his eyes were fixed on Stiles for a while, then he completely ignored Scott and started to glare Jackson.

"You all need training. We're going to run after we discuss a couple of things first" Derek continued, nodding at himself.

"First. Jackson, you are part of the pack now. I'm your leader. I'm your alpha. That means that you, Scott and Stiles will respect me and obey my commands. I won't use any brutal ways to punish you but I demand your trust and loyalty. You all will think before you act and do not do anything stupid and irrational" Derek looked every one of them. His tense profile relaxed a little.

"Pack is family. In pack we hunt and fight and stay away from hunters, but we also protect, listen and respect each other. We will not betray each other and we will always help each other. We stick together" Derek's voice wasn't so harsh anymore. It was almost soothing.

"We are family and it will never change. So don't do any things you're going to regret" He finished and walked off the porch. He started walking towards the woods while three others followed him like puppies.

"Since I'm the alpha now, and I have bitten Jackson, only two of you are werewolves. I plan on getting some other people into this too. Is Lydia awake?" He questioned. Stiles noted that he walked with bare feet.

"No, she's still sleeping. She's healing just like a normal human. It's kind of weird actually" Stiles answered. Jackson looked at him with weird expression.

"What do you mean by weird? Isn't she supposed to heal just normally?" He asked from Stiles, he was so obviously annoyed that Stiles knew more than he did. Stiles probably knew more about everything than anyone else in their school. _Except Lydia_.

"Well she was almost torn to pieces by insane werewolf and, as you know, the bite of werewolf changes you into werewolf. When you're werewolf you heal any wound way more quickly than normal person" Stiles explained slowly, inhaling a fresh air deep in his lungs.

"It was just rational that Lydia should be turning into werewolf, but it has been almost week already. Nothing seems to be happening and that makes it clear that she is not a werewolf. But the thing is, if you get bitten by a werewolf, you either die or you become a wolf. Neither of those has happened to her. It's very confusing" Stiles finished. Derek had stopped, they saw only a shadow of the Hale house anymore.

"The question is, what she is" Derek said and turned to look at Jackson, who had very complex look on his face. Derek didn't continue but instead he changed the subject.

"What I find weird is that now when I'm alpha, Scott, you are still an omega." Stiles turned to look at his friend with amusement.

" I have no idea what you've done to stay in your status, but what is more confusing .. is that Jackson is an omega too" Derek nodded towards Jackson. The two werewolves didn't seem to understand the weird side of the thing. Of course, they hadn't done their research. Was Stiles only one responsible in this pack?

"So .. " Scott moved his head in a way that he used in asking someone to continue when they didn't.

"The wolf-pack has usually only one omega" Stiles answered simply, earning a nod from Derek.

"Usually, when there are humans in pack, they're omegas. That'd mean that I have three omegas in my pack and not a single beta. Except that I have two Omegas, not three" Derek glanced at Stiles briefly. Quickly Jackson spoke up.

"But .. you said that me and Scott are omegas and humans are omegas too, but you're saying that you have only two omegas while you should have three? You make no sense."

"Yes, I said that I have only two omegas even though I should have three. Stiles is a beta" Derek stated and looked his pack mates surprised expressions. Stiles looked almost happy. He was.

".. but he's a human." Scott protested a little bit. Stiles scoffed.

"My humanity has nothing to do with this. Suck it. I'm beta and you're omega" Stiles' tone was playful and he laughed a little bit. He beat Jackson and Scott. His work was finally somewhere to see. And of course Jackson, new werewolf he was, asked that wonderful question that made Stiles grin like a madman.

"But what does it matter if you are beta or omega. Alpha's still the highest right?"

"Yeah, well it matters. Did ya know Jackson-boy that in real wolf-packs omegas are like the punching bags? There are only one omega in the pack, and the other wolves consider them as a.. humorous sidekick?" Stiles watched with pleasure as Jackson's expression changed grim. Even Derek's mouths corners lifted a little bit.

"Except, that in your case it has nothing to do with humor because as we all know, you have no any sense of it and that I am awesome." Stiles laughed joyously, only to make Jackson dash towards him half-shifted. That didn't even scare Stiles, and Scott grabbed Jackson with Derek's help and calmed him down. Stiles was just so happy. For once, he wasn't considered as weak and incapable. It wasn't like it had been Derek who decided who was omega or not, but it made Stiles happy nevertheless.

"This reminded me. Jackson, you are not allowed to play lacrosse. You set us all into huge danger." Derek growled. His eyes flashed red, giving creeps to Stiles. But as it seemed, Jackson was stupid.

"But Scott can play, why can't I? I do know how to control it!"

"No, you do not. I will not discuss this with you."

"I will play! You can't make me not to!"

"Are you sure about that? I will take your lacrosse-stick and rip it apart if you even try to go to that field again. Then I will hang down from my house's burnt beams. From your legs." That certainly wasn't one of Derek's most terrific threats, but it made Jackson quiet. He just glared.

"He broke my lacrosse-stick once. That sucked." Scott said quietly to Jackson.


	3. Chapter 2 Is there a changing point?

Thank you for your reviews! I'm very glad there's someone reading this. I have a lot on my plate this summer so updating this won't be exstremely regular.

And please, review so I know if you're reading this.

* * *

After Derek and Jackson had fought over the fact if the teen should play lacrosse or not, Derek made all of them practise their pack-skills. Stiles had been a little bit upset about that, because since he was the only one human in the pack right now, he was the most fragile and weak. His skills were meant to be different, it seemed.

Of course, there was always a chance on asking Derek to bite him, but Stiles felt uncomfortable with the whole mutating into werewolf thing. Sure, Stiles had lied when Peter Hale had asked if he wanted to be a werewolf and offered the bite, but he bet that everyone would lie in the situation where psychotic murderer alpha was holding your wrist and almost biting it. It wasn't like Stiles didn't want to be werewolf, of course he had thought about it, a lot. But it was so big of a risk. Yeah, becoming a werewolf had cured Scott's asthma and kept him alive very well, but it didn't work for all. Lydia, for example, was still lying there in hospital, in some sort of coma or sleep and healing slowly. And she was a normal, healthy person. At least he thought so. And Stiles.. Stiles had his ADHD. He was kind of scared about combining that with werewolf. After all, Stiles was born with his ADHD, even his mother had had it, and the idea of bite taking his disorder off was horrifying. Would he even be the same person anymore? Anyway, he wasn't sure if it would cause some complications with the bite. The idea of not surviving the bite wasn't itself even scary, but the thought of leaving his father alone was just terrifying. His mother had died only a year ago and if Stiles died, he knew his dad wouldn't survive. He was so weak already.

And yes, the practise. Well, first Derek had fought with Jackson, only to make him very angry and stopping him every time he started to wolf out. It was almost the same way he had done with Scott. Stiles could have thought many, many different and probably better ways to teach controlling anger (most of them would have probably just been some kind of paybacks from Jackson's bullying), but he let the werewolves do it their way. After the wolves had been fighting for more than half an hour, Derek put up a different kind of thing. It was simply a game of capture the flag. There were two small scarves tied into threes, and they were in two versus two teams. The thing was that you should be not seen by opposite team, and at the same time you should protect your own flag. The teams weren't exactly what Stiles had hoped them to be. Of all four of them, he was stuck with Scott. You would've thought that Jackson was ad at these things since he was a new werewolf, but since Stiles has known Scott almost his whole life, he knew that Scott was just the worst at trying not to be seen. Even when they were children, when they played hide and seek Scott's attempts to hide were just sad. He might hide behind transparent silk curtain and think that no-one saw him. That, ladies and gentlemen, was Scott McCall for you.

For Stiles the game had been mostly about hiding and walking quietly. He had had to remove his shoes to walk on the fallen leaves as quietly as possible, which, lead him to almost freezing his toes off. While Scott was all the time being seen and captured by Jackson or Derek, Stiles wasn't caught often. He even had tackled Jackson _three_ times while the game. And despite Scott's poor attempts of practicing his wolf skills, their team won. Stiles had always moved when there was some chaos going on, and he had used the moments others were trying to use their skills to hide themselves. He was good in that way, finding gaps in people's minds. Stiles had captured the flag twice. First time, when h had just got the scarf off the tree and started moving quickly, he had been tackled into ground both by Derek and Jackson. Second time he had caught it without any problems.

And now he was sitting there, a little bit muddy and dirty, on the hood of his jeep. Derek was lecturing Jackson and Scott about something that Stiles, even for his own surprise, wasn't interested on listening. But he watched.

Stiles watched how only after four hours, Scott and Jackson were hovering around Derek like puppies, touching his shoulder with their own. Derek didn't even seem disturbed about that. Maybe it was like that with werewolves. Even thought Stiles hadn't yet seen it, he could just imagine what kind of puppy piles Scott's and Jackson's actions would lead. Smiling at the image, Stiles jumped off the hood of his car and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His dad had called him twice. He was working, but he usually checked on him even then. He should probably go home before his dad, just to stay away from problems.

"Scott. We need to go. I'll be grounded if dad finds out that I wasn't home when I was supposed to. Again." Stiles said as he walked to the three werewolves. Scott just nodded and bumped his shoulder slightly at Derek's bicep, as if it was just an accident. Stiles thought that it was almost adorable how shy Scott was about showing his need for alpha. Seemed like omegas were needy and touchy-feely bitches. Stiles grinned a little bit. Sure, Betas were ones doing the job, but he wasn't even mad about that fact today. He watched how Scott and Jackson gave wary smiles at Derek, promising to come see him soon. Even Stiles heard the unspoken "tomorrow". As Scott and Jackson turned around to walk to the cars, Stiles was left behind for few seconds. He nodded at Derek, almost saying his goodbyes, when the alpha spoke instead. Obviously Scott and Jackson were far enough to not hear his quiet question.

"How's your leg?" Derek didn't show much emotion on his face. Maybe a little stripe of concern, but Stiles was afraid to start analyze his expression more.

"It's .. great. Completely healed. Thanks. By the way." Stiles stuttered with his words a little bit. God, he sounded stupid even into his own ears. Usually he was so eloquent.

"How're you?" Next question was quite blunt. Stiles blinked a few times.

"Well. Of course. I'm quite well." Stiles nodded more like to himself. Derek nodded too. It was almost awkward, but not completely.

"Yeah. Well I think I should go so I can take Scott home too." Stiles sighed a little bit and glanced at Derek's eyes. He nodded again. And Derek put his hand to Stiles' shoulder, giving a small pat to him.

"Night."  
"Yeah, good night to you too" Stiles hurried back to his jeep. He hoped to get a glimpse of Derek before he would drive away, but when he was sitting in his car, the man had already disappeared inside the house.

* * *

"What's with the touching?"

Scott and Stiles were lying on former's bed, half-asleep and in their ruffled pyjamas. They had one of their 'boy nights'. That was a once- a month tradition for them. They would go in each other's houses and spend the night watching movies, eating, playing games and talking and eating a little it more. It was one night in a month that they didn't care at all if they would get enough sleep, or eat too much or if their homework for next week was done. They just relaxed with each other.

Scott scrunched his face confusedly.

"What do you mean?" Stiles rolled on his stomach and lifted his head so he could watch his best friend's face.

"I mean, when you and Jackson are around Derek, you all kind of.. move like a big mass of mush" Stiles wrinkled his eyebrows.

"What I mean is, you all keep touching each other. It happens always when you meet, and always before you go. Damn, Derek gave you a hug some days ago!" Stiles waited a response for a few seconds and continued then.  
"It's just. I mean, I get it. Is it some kind of scent-thing that you all must have your scent all over each other so you recognise the pack, because I read somewhere that real wolves actually might ki-"

"_No_ Stiles. Well. I mean, yeah, it's kind of that. It feels uncomfortable when Jackson or Derek smells different. But that's not all of it" Scott had interrupted his best friend before he would end up babbling again.

"Well what is it?" Stiles questioned. He was just curious, that's all.

"It just feels right, okay? I can't really explain it. It's just.. just the way things are supposed to go. I don't really think more than that while doing it." Scott sounded almost exasperated, as he so often did nowadays. Since he became a werewolf he had been more flammable, getting angry quickly. So Stiles just let it be. Scott curled almost in a cat-like way against his best friend, pulling the comforter on top of them. It was like unspoken decision to go to sleep.

"It feels good in a platonic bromance - kind of way." Scott said right before Stiles dell into a deep slumber. Right when he was in that weird phase between sleep and awakeness, that you can't remember when you're awake.

* * *

It was a Monday morning. Usually, people declared that they hated Mondays, because Monday was a day that weekend had ended and you had to return back to school and work and everything unpleasant. But Stiles had never reached that point where he hated Mondays. He enjoyed them, really. In his point of view, Monday was just as equal day in a week as Saturday or Sunday. It just happened to be a day you had to do things that needed to be done. Of course, he didn't like waking p early and he didn't like going to school (He didn't hate going to school, but he didn't love it either. It was just a phase in your life after all), but Monday was always like a new chance borning, a way to start fresh.

But no, not this Monday, it wasn't. This was one of those days, you know, the days you just can't bring yourself to get up from bed and to do your morning routine. This was one of those days, when Stiles woke up just to remember, that he wasn't that happy 14 year old nine-grader that had the most idiotic best-friend in a world, super nice sheriff as a dad and a lovely mother who would make him porridge every morning and move in the kitchen the same enthusiastic way her son did. Mother, who put her chocolate-brown curls into a messy bun on the back of her head to reveal those golden-brown eyes that Stiles had inherited from her.

No.  
He was 16 year old high-schooler, far from happy. Had still most idiotic best friend in a world (who also seemed to forget his being), who also was a werewolf and very ungrateful about that, always whining about his life and not caring about anything or anyone else except his on/off girlfriend. He had a tired and sad sheriff as a father. His dad was right on the edge, drowning himself on his work and alcohol while trying to forget the horrible death of his wife. And this was Stiles' life.  
Luckily, the werewolves didn't have much problems going on in the pack anymore, no. But did Stiles have other problems in his life then? Oh yes, he did indeed. He had had to stay in school for three detentions last week. _Three_. And all of them from Professor Harrison, their chemistry teacher. First, he had been whispering with Scott during the class, which wasn't even bad, but very frustrating because Scott didn't get any detention from it, and everyone else did whisper in class too. Second, it was actually his own fault and he might have deserved it. He had provoked Scott to throw a paper-ball at Harris while he was writing at the chalkboard. But Scott got away from that again. Third time, he hadn't done nothing wrong. He had been just sitting sideways in his seat, reading the chapter of their chemistry book just like everyone else!  
So one of his big problems right now, was Professor Harris. Stiles didn't exactly now why, but he had decided to keep an eye on him, to make sure he did nothing wrong and passed everything with clear results (as if he wasn't getting straight A's already).

And due to all of this, his life seemed to suck on this particular day.

When Stiles was just drifting back to sleep, he heard a soft knock on his door. Right, his dad had a night-shift today, so he was at home in the morning, probably wondering why he wasn't up. Sheriff peeked into the room, seeing his son under covers, staring at his way with sleepy, red-rimmed eyes.

"Don't feel like going to school tonight, huh?" Sheriff asked softly, walking into the room. He has a glass of orange juice on his hand. Stiles' dad seemed to get to know his song a little better, because he obviously had predicted this as one of those days. He put the glass on Stiles' nightstand while his son shook his head.

"I'll call you sick then." hid dad sat on the edge of the bed, patting at his son's leg gently.

"Drink that, you'll feel better. I have to go shopping some groceries. You need something?" When Stiles shook his head slowly again, the sheriff just nodded and left the room, leaving his son to dwell on his feelings for this one day.

When Sheriff had gone downstairs Stiles took his small, orange bottle of sleeping pills and snatched one of those in his mouth, gulping it with all the orange juice. Soon, he was sleeping dreamless dreams without feeling anything.

The sun was going down when he woke up. His room was splayed with orange colours of sun's last rays and everything looked golden. It was nice, domestic. Felt like home that it was.

When Stiles tossed around on his right side, the thing he saw made him startle. But he let no voice, he was still too sleepy for that, it seemed.

"What are you doing in here Derek?" He questioned quietly, starting to scramble up to sit. He had only his way too big sheriff t-shirt and boxers on again, his usual sleep-wear.

"Checking up on you." the man answered, like it was the most idiotic thing ever to ask.

"Your dad left for work an hour ago." Derek stated then, looked up on some random book of Stiles' he was reading. He looked at sleep-muffled boy, took in his exterior. If Stiles' eyes didn't lie, he thought he saw a small pity or understanding on Derek's eyes before he turned to read again. Derek was sitting on Stiles' armchair next to his bed.

"No, no you didn't answer. Why are you checking up on me?" Stiles crawled to stood up and walked to his closet, didn't even know what to search.

"You weren't in school" one statement again. As if that explained anything. Derek continued.

"Scott called me. Three times. And Jackson too." This made Stiles to do strangled voice on the back of his throat.

"Why in the hell did Jackson call to you about me. It's Jackson." Stiles snorted and slid the door of his closet closed.

"They were worried about you. It's completely normal since they're omegas and they kind of need someone to be authoritative around them. They're very submissive to everyone else, even when they try to act as if they're not." Stiles scrunched his eyes closed and moaned slightly exasperatedly.  
"Okay, okay. It's not like they need to know what I'm doing all the time and.. where in hell is my red hoodie?" Stiles threw himself back on his bed almost like he had been defeated by the universe. Derek stood and grabbed the said hoodie from the back of the armchair, giving it to the Stiles.

After murmuring small thanks Stiles dragged the hoodie over his head. The fabric reeked like Derek, which made Stiles doubt just how long he had been sitting on that chair. Not that he minded, Derek didn't smell bad, he just had very strong and somewhat possessive scent on him.

Stiles didn't really get why Derek was still in his room, and why he had stayed after seeing him, but he didn't bother himself too much with it. The weird and scary feeling had started to creep back to his stomach, clenching all is insides and making him feel so worthless, that he just wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to forget all this for a few hours more.

When Stiles and crawled back into his bed and under comforter, he reached out to grab his bottle of sleeping-pills, but was interrupted by Derek who grabbed his wrist.

"You don't need those Stiles" He just stated calmly.

"No, no, I need. I can't get any sleep without them. Give them to me, please?" Stiles insister and tried to pry his hand of from Derek's grip.

"No, you don't need those. You will sleep without them" Damn, Derek sounded so certain about that, that it almost made Stiles to feel convinced too.

"Really, I see dreams and I need them Derek, I need them." Stiles started to panic. His voice escaped higher and he almost started to struggle to get his pills. But this was when Derek stood up again, sat down on the bed next to Stiles and pushed him down on to the mattress.

"You won't see dreams Stiles. You'll just sleep normally and until the morning."

"How can you be so sure?" Stiles sounded almost like a six year old little boy on the edge of crying. He sounded like a broken young man.

"I know it. I'll stay here and make sure of it." Derek's voice calmed Stiles to just nod a few times. The alpha settled down next to Stiles, put the comforter better around the younger boy.

"Are you sure I'm not gonna dream?" Stiles asked leisurely, his eyes fixed on Derek's face. A single tear escaped the boy's eye, down to the pillow. When Derek just nodded and collected the broken boy into his arms, Stiles was slowly falling into sleep. He was almost too warm, but it was comfortable.

In the morning, Stiles woke up too warm. He hadn't had any dreams, and he wasn't tired.  
Derek wasn't there, but the space next to Stiles was still warm.

* * *

"Stiles!" the single name echoed in the corridors of the Beacon Hills High School as Scott ran to his best friend and latched onto his arm. It was only seconds after that, when Jackson Whittemore patted Stiles' shoulder. Jackson looked very calm, even though his eyes seemed to tingle somehow more lively.

"Well, good morning to you too " Stiles drawled out, smile tugging the corners of his mouth. Well this was very unusual. In fact, this never happened. Scott goofed around his friend, yeah, but Jackson. Jackson was never friendly to Stiles. _Never_.

"May I ask, how do I deserve this kind of escort to class this early in the morning?" He smirked and arched his brow at Jackson. Scott just chuckled. No one said anything, tried to explain anything.

"Ooh-kay .. sure. We'll just go into the class. Two wolfies in both sides of me. I feel great. Not intimidated at all. Nope."

"Derek wants to meet us today" Scott finally said, opening the classroom door, letting Stiles and Jackson in before him.  
"Why? Am I invited?" Stiles questioned. His mind flashed at the previous night, when Derek had slept beside him. Because Stiles was sad. That was it.  
Jackson scoffed at Stiles' question. Obviously he thought that Stiles worrying about if he was invited, was just simply stupid. But Stiles was curious, yes, because he didn't know if Derek wanted to spend time just with his werewolves. You never know what that man thought after all.

"Of course you're coming. He just said that he wants to talk to us." Scott said right before teacher came into the class.

* * *

"You're what?" Stiles scrunched his face and watched at their alphas serious face.  
"I am going to renovate my house." Derek said calmly. He was sitting on the porch steps, while Stiles was sitting on top of the hood of his jeep with Scott. No way he was sitting on charred wood. You never get it off of your clothes.

"Yeah, I got that, but you just said that you're going to do it yourself, like, without any help from some kind of company?"  
"Yes, that's what I said Stiles"

"And you said that _we_ are going to help you" Stiles said incredulously, laughing a little, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes."

"Yeah, well, I really think that your decision to make this house livable again is awesome and everything but _seriously_, you are going to put us to work with you. We don't know anything about construction!" Stiles sighed. Jackson snorted.

"Oh please, of course we know how to build something Stiles, you can't be so stupid. It's not even hard" Jackson laughed a bit, as if he had built a house before. But Stiles knew he hadn't. At least not their own house, that had been made by some company.

"Like you have ever built anything Whittemore, you'd break your beautiful little nails if you did."

"Oh, is that so? Well I happen to know that you-" Jackson didn't make his sentence to it's end, he was interrupted by Derek.

"Stop it. I don't care if none of you knows how to build anything. I do, and you're going to help me." Derek rose up, as if he was going to leave.

"But why can't you just order ready house, they just put them on the ground and everything is ready. It's way more easy." Scott questioned with his usual confused face.

"I want to build this house with it's original layout. That's why." Derek's voice wasn't even exasperated at all, which was kind of a surprise, since he had to talk with three young teenagers who weren't very bright. Except Stiles, of course.

"But we seriously can't build anything. Haven't you seen Scott, he practically has a thumb in the middle of his hand. He is clumsy!" Stiles declared, pointing at his best friend. He really didn't want to build anything. To be honest, the only thing Stiles had ever built, was a birdhouse, and even that had broken after three days. He was the worst at building anything.

"I don't _care_ Stiles." Derek just said and walked in on his house.


End file.
